University of Virginia Library

SPRING JOY.

The wet red glebe shines in the April light,
The grey hills deepen into green again;
The rainbow hangs in heaven; thin vapors white
Drift o'er the blue, and freckle hill and plain
With many moving shades; the air is strong
With earth's rich exhalations after rain.
Like a new note breaks forth the ancient song
Of springtide birds, with fresh hope, fresh delight.
Low o'er the fields the marsh-hawk sails along;
Aloft small flocks of pigeons wing their flight;
Alive with sound and movement is the air;
The short young grass with sunlight rain is bright;
The cherry trees their snow-white garlands wear;
The garden pranks itself with leaf and flower;
Quick with live seeds the patient earth lies bare.
Oh, joy! to see in this expectant hour
The spirit of life, as on creation's day,
Striving toward perfect form! No fear hath power,
No sense of failure past hath strength to sway
The immortal hope which swells within the breast,
That this new earth matures not toward decay,
But toward a beauty hitherto unguessed,
A harvest never dreamed. These mild bright skies,
This lovely uncompleted world, suggest
A powerful joy, a thrill of high surprise,
Which no fruition ever may inspire,
Albeit each bud should flower, each seed should rise.